


You.

by millygal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, M/M, Schmoop, pre-wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 09:44:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10614333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: The Truth shall Set You free.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for fanspired's prompt for the kinky!meme - Sam/Dean season one: … having a wet dream and calling the other’s name during it. - I hope this is what you were imagining hun ;) Thank you, as always, goes to my amazing and supportive beta, wings128. Girls, I WROTE FIC THAT WASN'T CRACK! *collapses*

How, for the love of...did they end up in Phoenix, in August?!?  Nice case hunting Sammy!

It's hotter than Hell Fire and Dean's about ready to run naked and screaming from the room if his pain in the arse little brother doesn't stop making those god awful pornographic noises in his sleep.

There's no way he's going to get a moments peace tonight!

When Sam gets up tomorrow morning and finds Dean; a drooling mess, rocking back and forwards in the corner, he's going to have some extreme explaining to do!

Sam sounds as if he's being beaten bloody and blown to within an inch of his life all at the same time and Dean's seconds away from crawling out of his lonely bed and into Sam's sweat soaked one.

Sam's sheets are a complete shambles; tangled tightly around long legs that keep twitching and flexing, flashing Dean a tantalising hint of thigh. Taunting him to reach out and touch, begging him to cross that invisible line he drew between them so very long ago.

"Fuck sake Sammy, you gotta stop it or so help me I'm gonna..." Shaking his head, rattling his already fried neurons, Dean pretends he didn't just hear Sam's voice calling his name.

_What the fuck?_

"Dean, god, Dean, please...No, don't stop! I need, fuck I need...!"

Every single hair on Dean's over heated skin stands to attention. A Mexican wave of nerve endings all clambering to reach out and rake his nails down Sam's inner thigh. A thigh that now has a rock hard cock laying lazily against it, tip glistening with pre-come, making his mouth literally water, "Fuck's sake!"

Half his brain, the half that clamps down on his baser urges where his baby brother is concerned, is screaming at him to plant his ass or beat feet; anything other than what he really wants to do, which is take that perfect pink tip and hollow his cheeks around it.

As the sensation of slowly drowning in his brother's scent washes over him, Dean can do nothing to stop the groan that forces it's way up his throat.

His lips part, his heart beat notches up a few thousand revs and his fingernails dig new holes in the already threadbare sheets as his body creeps closer and closer to the edge of the dead space dividing them.

"De...please, _please_!"

"Oh Jesus", Dean's off his sagging mattress and above his brother's writhing body before he's even consciously made the decision to hasten his trip to Hell.

Dean eases himself into a crouch, bare thighs spread wide, his own cock hanging heavy and full between his legs. He wants to touch himself, he wants to take himself in hand and imagine it's Sam's lithe fingers curled almost too tightly, but he knows he'll be a pathetic mess in seconds and he has to see this through.

It's the first time in a long time that he hasn't felt as if he's alone in his obscenity. Listening to Sam call his name has finally ripped something free within him and he _is_ going to take what he's wanted for what seems like forever.

Steadying himself against the edge of Sam's bed, Dean snakes a hand across his brother's ribs, nails ever so lightly grazing the tanned flesh in front of him, "Sammy?"

Sam's response is instantaneous. He's still asleep, but his body reacts without thought. Tensing and turning towards the touch, he groans and thrashes beneath the still unsure hand, "Dean, that's it, I need...I need..."

Leaning in close, lips resting against Sam's ear, Dean whispers the words he never thought he'd actually get to say out loud, "What do you need, Sammy?"

Sam's eyelashes flutter violently against his cheeks, eyes rolling beneath his closed lids. His mouth falls open, tongue curling against his teeth, swallowing thickly, as if he were tasting Dean, drinking him down, "De?"

And he's awake.

Dean knows the moment that Sam's no longer hovering between asleep and awake because his voice is suddenly tiny, so tiny he can barely be heard above the blood pumping in his ears, "Sam? You with me?"

"I...what, what are you...", Sam's still trying to filter real from imagined as he feels fingers that _shouldn't_ belong, caressing him ever so gently, "Are you stroking me?!"

There's a hint of laughter in Sam's voice, a layer of amusement covering the very real need to make sure he isn't still dreaming and it elates Dean. If his brother can still smile through his fear, then he can take what's his, therapy bills be damned!

" _What_ do you **need** , Sammy?"

Sam curls into those words, wraps himself around them as he reaches out for Dean's face, slipping shaking fingers into silky soft tufts of hair.

Dragging himself closer, pulling Dean's full parted lips level with his own, he breathes the words into his brother's open smirking mouth, "You, always you!"


End file.
